Charlie
by pumpkinjuice
Summary: Hermione, frustrated by her increasingly unsupportive friends, seeks refuge in the school library one evening. Little does she know that what (or more specifically, who) she will find that night will change her life forever... Please review! 1st fanfic!
1. An Unexpected Encounter

**Chapter 1 – An Unexpected Encounter**

It was a cold, rainy November night when it happened.

Straight after dinner, Hermione Granger had escaped to the mercifully quiet confines of the school library – possibly her favourite place in the entire grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

She had found a comfortable armchair in a dimly lit, secluded corner of the room, away from the glaring eyes of Madam Pince who was never too keen to let the students touch her precious books.

Hermione yawned. It was such a relief to get away from the hassles of school life – and life in general, in fact - and immerse herself in a good book. In this case, _'House-elves: To Free or Not to Free'_ by Servitus Libertas.

"Ron can be _so_ insensitive sometimes!" she seethed out loud for the twentieth time in the past hour, and, sighing, leaned back in her chair, closing her sore, red eyes.

It wouldn't be so bad if her friends actually gave her some encouragement sometimes, rather than putting her down. SPEW was very important to her and they knew it. The least they could do was support her.

She sighed again, the laughter that had followed Ron's nasty comments earlier still ringing in her ears.

Hermione woke with a start. She peered around the library groggily, to find it dark and deserted. She closed her eyes again, wondering how on earth she could have let herself fall asleep during her SPEW research.

Suddenly, an ice-cold breeze filled the room. Shivering slightly, Hermione stretched her arms and opened her eyes, looking for the source of the cold air. She was startled to see someone occupying a chair adjacent to her own...

* * *

Ron was annoyed. He had been waiting in the deserted common room alone for hours - Harry having gone to bed long before – and there was still no sign of Hermione.

He hadn't seen her since she ran out of the Great Hall after their argument during dinner. He knew he shouldn't tease her about SPEW so cruelly and so often, but he couldn't seem to help himself. It was just such a ridiculous idea!

"Elfish Welfare, I ask you! They _like _being slaves!" he huffed, but there was a distinct note of worry in his voice, cleverly buried beneath his scorn.

He remembered the way Hermione's bright, happy face had fallen when he had interrupted her excited ramblings about SPEW to tell her exactly where she could stick her action group - much to the amusement of Harry, Dean and Seamus, but not so with Hermione.

She had tearfully berated him for being unsupportive and cruel, and he knew deep down that she was right. If he was any sort of friend he would encourage her in anything she did, but he simply couldn't bring himself to support something he was so opposed to.

Sighing miserably, Ron settled himself back into his favourite chair by the fire and continued to dwell on the way Hermione's watery eyes had conveyed her deep, harrowing disappointment in him.

* * *

Hermione peered into the darkness, her eyes slowly adjusting to the light. She could just about make out a dark figure slumped in the chair opposite her, but it was too dark to tell who it was.

Slightly unsettled and reluctant to leave the warm confines of her cosy chair, Hermione spoke in a whisper.

"H-hello?...Who's there?"

The figure twitched suddenly, as if he or she had been hitherto unaware of Hermione's presence in the room.

"Hello?" Hermione repeated, curious to know who was lurking in the shadows. Several long moments passed before a husky male voice answered.

"Hello, Hermione."

Hermione froze. She did not recognise the voice, yet its mysterious owner apparently knew her. She waited a moment to compose herself before asking, in a tremulous voice,

"Wh-who are you? How do you know my name?"

The stranger laughed. A rich, pleasant laugh that, for some reason, relaxed Hermione and brought her ragged breathing back to normal.

"Oh, I know you, Hermione, I know you very well," the voice paused, as if savouring the moment. "And I must say, it's a real pleasure to be meeting you like this...at long last..."

Hermione shuddered. Not an unpleasant shudder, quite the contrary in fact. There was no fear in it, just pure excitement.

"Who are you?" she repeated in a soft whisper, staring at the shadowy figure, praying for him to reveal himself.

As if in answer to her silent plea, the figure stood slowly and took a small, cautious step into the dim light between the two chairs. Hermione gasped.

It was a young man of about 18 years old. He had beautiful dark hair and strikingly blue eyes that stood out vividly against his dark Hogwarts robes.

This, however, was not what had caused Hermione to gasp. Her surprise had been due to the fact that she could see right through the boy to the vacated chair behind him. Hermione had read enough books and had enough encounters in her time at Hogwarts to determine that he was in fact...a ghost.

"Charlie," he uttered softly, his piercing eyes fixed on hers. "I'm Charlie."

* * *

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A/N:-

(17 Oct 04): This is my first fanfic so please forgive my rustiness! More chapters to come as soon as possible... Thanks! Please review...

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	2. Questions

**Chapter 2 – Questions**

"Charlie," said Hermione blankly.

"Yes...Charlie," laughed the spirit lightly, his captivating eyes still staring into Hermione's widened ones. "Me Charlie...you Hermione."

Hermione stared back at him, long and hard. She had so many questions for this mysterious young ghost that she was finding it difficult deciding where to begin. Finally, she spoke.

"How...how do you know my name?"

Charlie's grin widened. His smile was truly infectious. Hermione found herself smiling back in spite of herself.

"Oh, I know more about you than your name, Hermione Granger," he chuckled softly as Hermione's eyes widened once again before narrowing in obvious impatience.

"I do wish you would give me a straight answer when I ask you a question!" she huffed grumpily. "It's awfully rude of you!" Hermione blushed and lowered her eyes, ashamed of herself for shouting at someone she barely knew. She raised her eyes to Charlie's and softened her voice, "Please...I just want to know...what is it exactly that you think you know about me?"

There was a pause. Charlie was still beaming and once again Hermione found herself mirroring his smile. Finally, he spoke.

"I know the important things, Hermione... I know that you're a grade O student and an extremely responsible prefect. I know that you're caring and considerate, especially where house-elves are concerned..." His eyes twinkled at this. "I know that you've been through a lot during your time here at Hogwarts. You've been in situations no adult witch should experience and you've handled them remarkably well. I know that you're the most courageous young witch in this entire school. And, above all, Hermione, I know that you are a loving and loyal friend."

"But...how?" Hermione whispered, in disbelief. "How on earth do you know so much about me when we've never even met?!"

For the first time during their conversation, Charlie lowered his eyes and the smile faded from his face. Hermione noticed he looked rather embarrassed.

"Because I've been watching you," he muttered.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore felt it was time to leave the room. He had never been one to eavesdrop, after all. He removed his sad eyes from the pair, moved from his position in the shadows near the door and left the school library with a flick of his dressing gown.

* * *

"You've been watching me?" Hermione gasped. "But...why? I don't understand."

Charlie raised his eyes back to Hermione, a sad smile playing on his lips.

"I like you, Hermione," he said simply. "You make me feel happy. Happier than I've felt since—" He lowered his eyes again. "I'm sorry if I've made you feel uncomfortable. I don't mean to. Hurting you is the last thing I'd want to do."

Hermione was taken aback. She was utterly bewildered at the fact that this ghost had been watching her. However, she felt her bemusement fade as she looked at the boy's sad, apologetic face and began to feel something else...sympathy.

"That's okay," she whispered, with a kind smile. "You haven't hurt me, Charlie. I'm just...surprised, that's all. It's a lot to take in, after all."

Charlie raised his head, smiling.

"You said my name," he whispered, happily. "You don't know how much that means to me... You know, you're the first witch I've spoken to since I died. Perhaps I should say 'living witch', if we're counting Moaning Myrtle." He rolled his eyes, his cheerful demeanour returning. "Anyway, you're the only living person I've spoken to in all these years, apart from Dumbledore of course..."

"Dumbledore? Do you speak to him often?" asked Hermione, curiously.

"Yes. I spend a great deal of time in his office. He lets me sit with him almost every evening. He's a great man."

"I know," smiled Hermione, nodding. "But, Charlie...if you've been here at Hogwarts since you...well, since you passed away...and you've been watching me...how come I've never seen you before?"

"Because I prefer to keep myself to myself. Before now, I've hidden in the shadows. No one knows about me apart from the other ghosts and Dumbledore. And now you, of course." He beamed.

"I see," said Hermione slowly. She knew exactly what she wanted to ask next, but was unsure of how to approach the subject.

"Charlie..." she began, hesitating.

"Yes, Hermione?" he grinned, obviously delighted at being addressed by name.

"Can I ask you a question? I mean, you don't have to answer if you don't want to... I'm just...curious."

"Yeah sure, go right ahead," he replied cheerfully.

"Well...er...how exactly did you, er, pass away?" Hermione blushed, painfully aware of the delicateness of the subject.

Hermione looked up to see a sorrowful smile on the spirit's pale face. She raised her eyes to his and was stunned to see an unmistakable, aching sadness.

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A/N:-

(18 Oct 04) Thanks for the reviews... Hope you like this chapter even though there's not really much happening! I promise it'll get more exciting soon! You'll just hafta keep reading! Please review... I'll add the next chapter ASAP! :o)

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	3. Sweet Dreams

**Chapter 3 – Sweet Dreams**

"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered, shaking her head apologetically. "I shouldn't have asked such a question. It was silly of me. I don't need to know...I just let my curiosity get the better of me...I'm sorry if I've upset you."

"Don't worry, Hermione, you haven't upset me at all," soothed Charlie gently, but as Hermione met his unwavering gaze she could still perceive traces of the acute pain and sorrow she had seen just seconds before. She decided to change the subject.

"So...er...do you like to read, Charlie?"

Grinning, the ghost pulled a nearby armchair close to Hermione's, sat and proceeded to tell Hermione about his love of all things literary. It emerged that he was a great reader and had once had aspirations to become an author himself.

Hermione listened intently to Charlie, noticing that he had perked up considerably. She was extremely relieved. As much as she had wanted to know the answer to her question, she knew it had been rather impertinent of her to approach such a sensitive topic of conversation with a ghost.

"...In fact," Charlie continued, "I think I've read nearly all of the books in this library and almost certainly everything Dumbledore owns!"

Hermione chuckled softly. "And there I was thinking I was the most well-read student in the school!"

"Well, I'm not technically a student any more but it's nice of you to include me in that category, Hermione," he smiled, leaning forward in his chair so that Hermione could make out tiny specks of emerald in his glittering sapphire eyes. She raised her eyes to his dark hair and noticed that the style was rather old-fashioned: immaculately groomed and neatly parted at the side. It occurred to her that she had no idea of when Charlie had lived.

"What are you thinking?" Charlie's voice startled Hermione, who had been totally lost in her thoughts.

"Er...well...I was just wondering when it was that you, um, lived?"

There was a brief pause before he answered softly, "A long time ago. Over fifty years, in fact. Don't worry, Hermione, you're entitled to ask questions."

Hermione smiled, wondering whether to ask Charlie once more about his death, but deciding against it. Her eyes wandered to a nearby grandfather clock and she gasped when she saw how late it was.

Charlie followed Hermione's gaze and gave her another sad smile. "3'o'clock in the morning. It's getting rather late, isn't it? I think I've kept you too long, Hermione. You should go back to your common room before Filch catches us and sets that horrid cat of his on you."

"You're probably right," yawned Hermione, slowly getting to her feet. There was so much she wanted to know about her new friend but she knew she would have to save it for another time. She found herself hoping deeply that there would be another time.

"Don't worry, we will meet again," whispered Charlie, seemingly reading her thoughts. "Sooner than either of us think, I expect... Sweet dreams, Hermione," and with a final flash of his now familiar grin, he vanished.

* * *

Dumbledore paced slowly up and down his office. He had known this day would come at some point and had thought that he was prepared for it. He knew he should stop it now before it was too late but something inside him was telling him to leave them be for the time being. He halted next to Fawkes' perch and lovingly stroked his dear friend's beautiful feathered head, wondering to himself whether the prophecy he had heard so long ago could at last be coming true.

* * *

Hermione returned to the Gryffindor tower unseen by anyone. She had grown used to dangerous situations over the past five years, so the simple matter of breaking a few school rules didn't bother her in the slightest. She had become both brave and rather foolhardy, a considerable contrast to her pre-Hogwarts self. Then, she had been wary of any sort of trouble. Nowadays, her courage knew no end.

As she entered the common room that night, however, and saw Ron sleeping in his favourite fireside armchair, her heart skipped a beat and she stopped dead in her tracks. Despite all of her bravery and confidence, lately she had begun to feel slightly nervous around her friend and was not altogether sure why.

Hermione walked slowly towards Ron's sleeping figure and looked down at her friend, who she noticed was shivering slightly. She turned to the fireplace, took out her wand and prodded the dying flames until they were almost as tall as her. She then conjured up a warm, fluffy blanket and gently draped it over Ron's softly snoring form.

"Goodnight, Ron," she whispered, before conjuring up another blanket and settling into her favourite chair opposite Ron's. "Sweet dreams."

* * *

_A/N:- _

_(14 Nov 04): First of all, I'm VERY VERY VERY VERY VERY SORRY it's taken me sooooooooo long to update but I've been horribly, annoyingly busy over the past month! Hope no one's lost interest due to my appalling lack of organisation and time! Second of all, I hope this is going OK, please review to let me know! :o) P.S – Sorry!_


	4. Hiding Something

**Chapter 4 – Hiding Something**

Ron awoke early the next day unrefreshed and totally confused as to where he was. He blinked his bleary eyes several times and eventually began to take in his surroundings.

"The common room?" he croaked, confused. "Oh yeah…I was up all night waiting for – HERMIONE!"

Ron had just noticed his sleeping friend snuggled up in the chair opposite him. She stirred, roused by his sudden yell.

"Ron?..." she yawned, sleepily. "What's with all the yelling? Everything all right?"

"Well…no, not really, Hermione!" he spluttered, irritably. "Do you mind telling me where exactly you got to last night or am I to be held in suspense for another 12 hours?! I've been up all night because of you – well, apart from when I fell asleep – but, still! I looked all over the castle and then came back here and waited for hours and hours and hours and - " Ron broke off, suddenly uncomfortably aware of how much he sounded like his mother.

"Are you quite finished? Keep your hair on, _Mum_," she yawned again, uninterested in rising to the argument she sensed was coming. "I was in the library."

"The l-library?" stammered Ron, amazed at his own gargantuan stupidity. He hadn't even looked in the library. The most obvious place where Hermione could have been and he had forgotten to check it. What on earth was the matter with him?

"Yes, the library, Ron. You know…the place with all the books?" A brief pause. "You _did_ look for me there, right?"

"Of course I did!" Ron replied, indignantly, totally conscious of the fact that this was a bald-faced lie. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.

"Hmm, yes, well…I suppose I was rather tucked out of view…Anyway!" exclaimed Hermione suddenly. "I'm still cross with you for what you said about SPEW yesterday!"

"Yeah well, it's a stupid idea anyway," Ron grumbled, half to himself.

"_Excuse me?!_"

Ron was about to launch into another tirade about how idiotic he thought SPEW was when he met Hermione's eyes and saw the acute hurt that lay there. The beginnings of the same hurt that had caused her to run from the Great Hall in floods of tears the previous evening. He sighed resignedly and looked at the floor.

"Look, Hermione…I feel really…bad about last night, OK? I didn't mean to hurt your feelings…I know I can be a little stupid sometimes…It's just that I tend to talk before I think sometimes, as you probably know well enough being one of my best friends…erm…And I suppose you're only trying to do what you think is right, even if it is…well…never mind. But, well…I mean, what I'm trying to say is…I'm sorry, Hermione."

He looked up and was surprised to see a tearful smile on Hermione's face.

"Thank you, Ron," she sniffed, happily. She had never thought she'd see the day when Ron would actually apologise for being unkind to her, and on top of that, he had even admitted he could be 'a little stupid sometimes'! She made a movement as if to hug him, but on spying the terrified look on his face as she moved towards him, she made do with an awkward pat on the arm.

"Right…" said Ron, uneasily. He searched around for something, anything, to say, before asking, quite innocently: "So…anything interesting happen in the library?"

"No!" exclaimed Hermione, in the unnecessarily loud and strangely high-pitched voice which Ron knew she only used when she was hiding something. "Why would anything interesting happen in the library? I just read some books…that's what I do, I read…nothing out of the ordinary happened…I just fell asleep, that's all! So…where is everyone? It's nearly 8'o'clock."

"It's Saturday," replied Ron, bewildered as to why his friend was acting so strangely. "They're probably having a bit of a lie-in…Hermione, what's wrong? Is there something you should be telling me?"

"Oh, of course! Saturday!" she cried, ignoring Ron's last questions. Hermione smiled nervously, unsure as to why she was hiding the events of the night before from Ron. The truth was - although at this point she didn't realise it - she wanted an adventure all to herself for once and felt Charlie could be just that. She went on, anxious to change the subject: "Perhaps we should wake Harry? We could go for a walk down by the lake or something. Get out of the castle for a little while." She looked at Ron hopefully.

"Hermione, it's like three degrees out there and, besides, it's raining, look!"

Hermione glanced out of the window to see an extremely angry-looking storm ravaging the grounds outside. Her face fell.

"Well…er…never mind…Anyway, I feel simply horrid in these robes, I've been wearing them all day and night. I'm just going to go up to my dormitory to get changed...See you in a bit." And with that she had left the common room and was hurrying up the girls' staircase, leaving an utterly bewildered Ron behind her wondering what on earth had come over his friend.

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A/N:-

(5 Jan 05): Hiya :) I'm sooo sorry it's taken me this long to update and I'm really sorry it had to be with quite a short, boring, uneventful chapter! Believe me, it will definitely get better! I'm quite chuffed with the plot I've worked out, it's just getting it done that's the trouble! Anyways, hope you haven't lost too much interest in the story! I'm gonna start writing the next chapter right now, if that's any consolation for the boringness of this one! Please review and don't be too harsh! Cheers! Nicki x


	5. A Long Day

**Chapter 5 – A Long Day**

Hermione spent the rest of the day attempting – rather unsuccessfully – to divert Ron's attention from enquiring as to – as he so eloquently put it – 'what the bloody hell it was that she was hiding'. It transpired to be very hard work as whenever Ron determined to find something out he had a tendency to pester his unfortunate victim continuously until he was greeted with a satisfactory answer. (It reminded Hermione a great deal of the occasion two years earlier when Ron had spent the last remaining days before the Yule Ball trying to discover who she was going with).

By dinnertime, Hermione was exceedingly disgruntled. As soon as they sat down at the Gryffindor table, an apparently famished Ron began simultaneously stuffing his face with steak and kidney pie and harassing Hermione between each mouthful.

"Youshdeffnityhidensummotermionee…Dofforgesh, Inoseyo."

"Ron, if you're determined to go on at me _all_ day, at least have the common decency to swallow your food before you continue your incessant whining," sighed Hermione wearily.

"Yeah, it is pretty disgusting, mate," chipped in Harry with a small smile. Hermione beamed at him, happy for the support and even happier to see one of Harry's recently rare smiles. He just hadn't been the same since Sirius' death.

"I _said_: 'You're definitely hiding something Hermione. Don't forget, I know you.' That better,_ mate_?" grumbled Ron, throwing a disgruntled look in Harry's direction, who consequently looked down at his plate and became apparently absorbed in his untouched meal. Hermione saw this and glared at Ron menacingly, before jerking her head towards Harry and throwing him a meaningful look.

Ron sighed and nodded meekly. He knew as well as anyone that petty arguments were exactly what Harry didn't need right now. He needed consoling and cheering up. Ron searched his brain – as he had done many times over the past months - for something to take his friend's mind off his eternally depressing thoughts.

"Hey, Harry…have you heard the one about the toad and the quill-maker?"

"Yeah, you told me that joke twice yesterday and once this morning," replied Harry, looking up, a glimmer of a smile playing about his lips.

"Oh right," mumbled Ron, slightly disheartened. Several pensive minutes passed before he exclaimed, "I've got one!...Right, Harry, I've definitely not told you this one before…You listening?...Oh, don't roll your eyes like that Hermione, it's a good joke! Honest! Right…Why did the poorly wizard sleep with his wand under his pillow?"

Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance. Ron had told them this joke several times over the past fortnight and it hadn't become any funnier since its first 'hilarious' telling.

"We don't know, Ron. Why _did_ the poorly wizard sleep with his wand under his pillow?" they chorused obediently.

"Because he thought a spell in bed would do him good!" And with that Ron burst into raucous laughter.

Hermione groaned theatrically and went along with pretending she had never heard the joke before. _I'm just glad he's finally off the subject of my little…secret_, she thought in relief.

"So, Hermione…" began Ron, helping himself to a rather generous serving of the large pumpkin pie which had just appeared on the table. "What's this big secret of yours then?"

"Spoke too soon," she muttered quietly to herself.

"Whadidoojushay?" asked Ron, who had apparently forgotten his newly acquired table manners already.

"I didn't say a thing, Ron," sighed Hermione impatiently, suddenly deciding she had lost her appetite for pumpkin pie and pushing her plate away. "Mmm…that was delicious but I'm stuffed." She gave an exaggerated yawn. "Oh well, I'm exhausted. It's off to bed for me. See you two tomorrow." And with that, Hermione stood up and hurried out of the Great Hall without giving either of her friends the chance to raise any objections.

Ron stared after her with his mouth hanging wide open, unpleasantly still full to the brim with half-chewed pumpkin pie. After several moments, Ron spotted Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil staring at him in disgust and, scowling back at them, he swallowed his food grumpily. He turned to Harry, brandishing a forkful of pie as he spoke.

"That's the second time in as many days she's run off on us at dinnertime! What on earth is that girl up to?"

* * *

Hermione was enormously relieved to get away from Ron and his constant, unrelenting questions. She ran all the way to Gryffindor Tower, impatiently muttered the password ('Hinkypunk') to the Fat Lady and clambered through the portrait hole, extremely thankful to find the common room deserted. Feeling utterly drained and exhausted from her long day, Hermione plonked herself down in her favourite chair and closed her eyes, allowing the pleasant warmth of the fire to drift over her bringing with it a satisfying sense of calm and peace. Feeling a sudden movement at her feet, she opened her eyes to find a purring Crookshanks slowly winding himself around her legs. Smiling, she picked him up and closed her eyes again, stroking his smooth fur idly. It felt so good to be alone, away from her friends - as much as she loved them - and to be able to relax for once. Besides, she wanted some time alone to think about Charlie and the list of questions she was dying to ask him: What did he do all day? Why did he stay behind as a ghost and not move on to – well, wherever it was that dead people moved on to? What was his 'unfinished business'? And then the question she wanted to know the answer to most of all, but knew she really shouldn't ask again: _how did he die?_

Suddenly, the room grew cold - despite the warmth of the fire - , goose pimples broke out on Hermione's exposed arms and Crookshanks, purring loudly, dug his sharp claws painfully into Hermione's thigh. She opened her eyes and gasped:

"Charlie!...You frightened me! I-I wasn't expecting you to be there!" She laughed nervously, feeling a little silly to have reacted in such a scared way. She was supposed to be a brave Gryffindor, after all!

Charlie was sitting opposite her – in Ron's usual chair – his piercing blue eyes boring into Hermione's and his trademark grin lighting up his otherwise pale face.

"We've got to stop meeting like this!" he joked, in his cheerful, husky voice.

Hermione smiled, having regained her composure and removed the struggling Crookshanks' claws from her throbbing leg.

"Settle down, Crookshanks!" she exclaimed rather impatiently, placing the panicked cat on the floor and watching as he crawled underneath her armchair, purring softly.

"I had a cat once," began Charlie, gazing at Crookshanks reminiscently, almost fondly. "I called him Shivers. He used to get scared at the slightest thing and start shaking all over like a big furry jelly. I think the sight of a ghost would have killed him – never mind the nine lives!"

Hermione smiled, glad that she was getting to know a little more about her new friend. A sudden thought occurred to her.

"I don't know your full name! What's your surname, Charlie?...If you don't mind me asking that is," she added timidly.

"Like I said last night, Hermione, you are entitled to ask questions. I know so much about you, it's only fair that you should learn about me in return," he smiled reassuringly. "It's Winters."

"It certainly is," sighed Hermione glumly, glancing out of the window at the ever raging storm outside.

Charlie gave a resonant laugh, his eyes twinkling merrily, before saying, "No, Hermione. I meant my surname is Winters. Although you were perfectly correct in your statement, it is indeed winter outside."

Hermione blushed crimson. _Of course he was referring to his name_, she thought to herself, in mortification._ Well, Hermione Granger, for a supposedly clever girl you really do know how to make yourself look like a fool in front of boys!_ She sought for something to say to hide her embarrassment.

"Charlie Winters…that's a…nice name," she finished lamely, before adding suddenly: "Hold on…I'm sure I've heard your name before…hmm…but I can't for the life of me think when or where or why!" She gazed at him thoughtfully for a few moments before asking: "Did you play Quidditch when you were a student here, by any chance?"

Charlie nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, I was the Gryffindor goalkeeper…" he began.

"Oh, like my friend Ron, he's Gryffindor goalkeeper now!" interrupted Hermione, pleased to have contributed something to a conversation about Quidditch, for once, and not noticing the shadow that had fallen over Charlie's face at the mere mention of Ron's name. "Gosh, yes," she continued. "That must be where I've heard your name from. Harry and Ron - " The shadow deepened slightly. " – are always being given detention by Professor Snape – and for the slightest thing, too, he really is horrid to them - and sometimes they have to clean all these old school trophies as punishment. Every now and then I go with them, just to keep them company, and they read out the names of the winners as they clean each trophy! Well, Charlie Winters. Did you win many trophies while you were on the team?"

Charlie brightened up considerably at this question and the use of his name. He smiled at Hermione warmly before saying:

"Yes, several in fact. I keep them in my hideaway, they're very special to me. They remind me of a time when the world was…more straightforward."

"That's nice," Hermione returned Charlie's warm smile. Suddenly her brain latched onto something he had said.

"Hideaway?" she said, blankly. "You have a hideaway?"

"Yes," Charlie smiled at her confusion. "I'll show you if you like."

Hermione thought for a moment. She looked around her at the still deserted common room and wondered where the rest of her Gryffindor housemates had got to. Dinnertime had finished long ago, surely.

"I know what you're thinking," said Charlie, beaming at her. "Where are the other Gryffindors? Well, I think I can answer your question... Before I came to see you, I saw Peeves preparing what I believe may have been a practical joke for the benefit of your beloved Professor Snape. Something to do with Fizzing Whizbees in one of his potions, I believe. If I were to hazard a guess as to your housemates' whereabouts, I would say they're probably down in the dungeons enjoying the show!"

Hermione grinned, she wasn't usually one to approve of Peeves and his practical jokes – especially when they involved teachers – but for Professor Snape, she would make an exception. With only a slight sense of disappointment at missing all the fun downstairs, she scooped the still shaking Crookshanks up into her arms, looked at Charlie and said:

"Come on then. Let's go and have a look at this hideaway of yours!"

* * *

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A/N:-

(7 Jan 05): Hiya :) Thanks for the reviews! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Longest one so far! Wahoo! I'm just chuffed with myself for getting it done so quickly after doing the last one! Hopefully there'll be no more long waits for me to update in the future! Anyways, please review! Ta! Nicki x


	6. The Hideaway

**Chapter 6 – The Hideaway**

Hermione – along with the trembling Crookshanks still encased in her arms - followed Charlie expectantly and with a sense of great excitement she hadn't felt for some time. Despite her constant badgering, he playfully refused to tell her the whereabouts of his mysterious 'hideaway' until they reached their destination. As the pair walked along the Gryffindor corridor towards the Grand Staircase, Hermione let her imagination run wild and convinced herself that the secret room was probably either located in the tallest room of the highest tower or amongst the deepest, darkest caverns of the lowest dungeons. She was rather pleasantly surprised when Charlie led her downstairs to the Entrance Hall and proceeded out of the castle into the damp, darkening school grounds. Soon, Hermione realised that they appeared to be heading towards the banks of the overflowing Black Lake.

"I had no idea you lived out in the grounds, Charlie," Hermione whispered cautiously, aware of the eerie stillness around them. "I would have thought the castle a more suitable - and comfortable - choice for a hideaway…"

"I have my reasons," shrugged Charlie mysteriously, glancing around at Hermione, the same sad smile playing on his pale lips.

Before Hermione had the chance to successfully persuade Charlie to explain his 'reasons', they had reached the banks of the Lake and were standing next to an ancient, imposing tree.

"Ladies first," grinned Charlie, bowing flamboyantly and gesturing towards the massive grey tree-trunk.

Hermione stared at the huge tree in awe, totally oblivious as to what it was that she was supposed to be doing 'first'. Hesitantly, she leaned forward and searched in vain for grooves on the coarse, grey bark of the tree.

"I can't climb this thing, Charlie! There aren't even any footholds! I'd be sure to slip and fall to my death-" she stopped herself, unwilling to approach the subject that so evidently saddened her new friend more than any other. But, to her surprise, Charlie began to laugh.

"We're not going to _climb _the blasted thing, silly!" he chuckled merrily. "Why, that would put a perfectly good door to waste, wouldn't it?"

"What door?" asked Hermione, staring at the seemingly normal tree in utter confusion.

"Ah, you'll just have to work it out for yourself, won't you, Miss Smarty Pants? I'm sure you'll get to the root of the problem eventually," sniggered Charlie, his handsome eyes twinkling mischievously. And with that, he disappeared into the vast tree-trunk.

Hermione stood for some time, alone and uncertain what to do next. She couldn't for the life of her see anything even resembling a door within the rough surface of the tree. Suddenly, something clicked in her clever brain and, shaking her head, she smiled ruefully at her own foolishness. She looked down towards her feet and began searching. After just twenty seconds of scanning the huge amount of ground surrounding the tree, an amused Hermione found what she had been seeking. A large overgrown root protruded from the ground like a fat, knobbly snake, completely smothered in foliage apart from one small smooth circle, which was conspicuously clear of any undergrowth. Hermione's smile broadened further when she spied the letters 'C.W.' carved in its midst. She withdrew her wand with a graceful sweep and gently tapped the crude markings with its tip. The letters began to gleam a bright blood red and a jet of crimson light burst from the heart of the 'C'. Hermione turned to find that the glowing stream was concentrating on a small section of the tree-trunk. Suddenly and with a loud 'POP!' an ornate, ruby doorknob appeared on the calloused surface of the bark, in the exact spot where the scarlet beam shone with the brilliance of the Sun. Hermione smiled appreciatively at the cunning behind the magic, turned the beautifully-crafted doorknob and entered the belly of the fascinating tree.

* * *

"That…" began Ron cheerfully, "has got to be _the funniest _bloody thing I have ever seen in my life!"

"Funnier than the time Seamus nearly blew himself up brushing his teeth?" asked Harry, grinning widely as he followed Ron through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room.

"_Much_ funnier than that!"

"Funnier than the time Malfoy was transfigured into a ferret?"

"Funnier still!"

"Funnier than the Boggart transforming into Snape wearing Neville's grandmother's clothes?"

"Yes! Even funnier than that! And that was bloody funny!" Ron snorted with laughter, clutching his sides in delirious pain, certain they would split in two if he didn't calm down at once. "Snape'll be pulling slimy gunge out of his nostrils till New Year! Did you see how much he swallowed!"

"Let's hope the stuff's lethal!" sighed Harry, crumbling exhaustedly into his favourite fireside chair. Ron collapsed next to him and turned to his best friend, glad to notice that he seemed truly content for the first time in many months. He almost looked like his old, happy self. Almost…

"He was absolutely _drenched_ in the nasty stuff!" Ron continued, eager to extend Harry's good mood further. "But it didn't make much difference to his greasy hair, if anything it looked better covered in vomit-coloured goo!" Ron continued to howl with laughter for several minutes, before stopping abruptly and gazing around the room, seemingly searching for something.

"What, or whom, are you looking for?" asked Harry, puzzledly.

"Hermione," Ron muttered absently, his eyes still busily foraging every dark corner of the crowded common room.

"She went to bed, mate. You heard her in the Great Hall. She said she was tired. As would I be if I'd been reading textbooks all night long…"

"If you believed that load of codswaddle for one minute, then you're a bloody fool, Harry. She was up to something last night, and it certainly wasn't literary-based!" Ron's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "I bet she's off doing whatever it is again now. She wasn't tired at dinnertime; she looked more awake than me!" Harry sighed wearily and glanced up to see Lavender Brown descending the stairs from the Gryffindor dormitories.

"Oi, Lav!" he shouted, casually. "Is Hermione up there?" Ron looked up expectantly as Lavender approached the pair and shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly.

"Nope, the place is as dead as Nearly Headless Nick. Everyone's down here talking about Peeves and his knack for explosives. In fact…" her eyes widened curiously, "I haven't seen Hermione since I spotted her leaving the castle with some bloke earlier on. A very _handsome_ bloke at that." She eyed Ron's grey face and chuckled. "I didn't recognise him, he might be new. Perhaps they've snuck off for a bit of privacy, away from prying eyes…" And with an impish wink, she walked away, leaving in her wake an amused Harry and a very pale-looking Ron.

* * *

Hermione was enveloped in total darkness as the rough, grey door closed behind her. In fact, it was probably the darkest of darknesses she'd ever encountered. It felt almost as if a cloak of the darkest satin had been draped over her head, reluctant for her curious eyes to see what was lying ahead.

"_Lumos_," she whispered automatically, relieved and grateful when the tip of her wand sparked into a blaze of light. She realised she had been holding her breath and blew out in a long gust. Then, she gasped.

She was in a large, dusty room. (Much bigger than she would have expected of the insides of a simple tree). But, it was not the sheer size of the room that had made her gasp in surprise. It was the contents. She was surrounded by a most curious collection of objects: Quidditch balls of all varieties scattered the floor, watches and jewellery of gold and silver glinted on spindly tables, lonely-looking shoes hung from the ceiling by their shoelaces - each despondently missing their partner, gleaming trophies stood proudly on a damp-looking cabinet - all bearing the name 'Charlie Winters', water-sodden books teetered in piles near the uneven walls... Overall, the items were not exactly what one would expect to find inside an eighty-foot oak tree.

Hesitantly, and wondering where on earth Charlie had disappeared to, Hermione approached the old-fashioned trophy cabinet and studied its shining contents. Her sharp eyes swept across the glittering medals and well-kept cups, observing the blatant difference in quality and care between these objects and the old, damp, rotting specimens cluttering the rest of the room. As she admired the numerous awards, something brown caught her eye. Something out of place… There was an old, bulky book tucked away behind the biggest trophy of all, awarded for 'Services to the School'. Automatically, she reached for it – as she would any book that took her interest in the school library – and gazed down at the attractive cover. It bore no writing, but a golden pattern of flowing beauty seeped through the leather like a cluster of rivers on an otherwise vacant map. Mesmerised by the book's splendour, she gently began to lift the front cover.

"What exactly do you think you're doing?" came a cold, angry voice behind her that Hermione didn't recognise. She turned around slowly only to be met with a pair of piercing blue eyes that could only belong to Charlie. Only this time, they weren't warm and friendly. Instead, they were filled with the purest contempt.

* * *

A/N:-

(4 July 06): Hi there :o) First of all, I know a lot of you have been very put out by the insanely long wait for a new chapter! All I can do is offer my sincerest apologies. Unfortunately, I have encountered some 'personal stuff' over the past year or so, which has prevented me from continuing with the story. Again, I'm sorry, but I hope you can understand and will find it in your lovely big hearts to forgive me! I am back on track now and will be posting chapters much more often, as we approach our tantalising climax! I really hope you enjoy reading this chapter and are still hooked on the mystery of Charlie Winters! Happy guessing! ;o) Your ever-devoted writer, Nicki xxx (P.S – Happy 4th of July to my American readers! Hope you like your present!)

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